


Incubus

by Pallanwen



Category: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Fingering, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Masturbation, Nixa - Freeform, PWP, Voyeurism, accidental room sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:44:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallanwen/pseuds/Pallanwen
Summary: A shared hotel room – things happen...A shameless PWP, I have no excuse.
Relationships: Blixa Bargeld/Nick Cave
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Incubus

It's already dawn. Grey morning light is creeping through the gaps in the curtains, when Nick staggers into the hotel room that he thinks is his.

Only when he spots the two beds and the sleeping figure sprawled face down on one of them, the memory returns to him – slowly, like a wanderer making his way through a moor covered by wafts of mist. The messed-up bookings, everyone pressing for time and budget. Shared rooms... Yes, that was this morning even if it seems like aeons ago.

He doesn't even look at Blixa when he flops down on his own bed, kicks off his shoes and closes his eyes. 

[...]

Nick isn't sure what it was that woke him, the onsetting hangover or the movement on Blixa's side of the room.

Slowly, he opens his eyes and turns around. 

Blixa is lying on his back now, his eyes still closed, the blanket gathered at his waist. From what it looks like, he is naked, the harsh morning light exposing every detail of his protruding ribs and sallow skin.

Nick knows he should go back to sleep, but he can't help but stare. 

Blixa's sharp profile, the way his head sinks back into the pillow, highlighting the long line of his neck. The weird little strands of hair combed into vaguely sideburn-ish fashion in front of his elfin ears, his long lashes and full lips...

Nick groans softly and squints his eyes shut.

_Go back to sleep, you're thinking like a fag again._

Although, he doesn't - go back to sleep that is.

When he hears the rustling of sheets from Blixa's side of the room, his eyes fly open again.

_Oh, fuck..._

Blixa is awake. With his eyes still closed, his right hand has slid under the blanket. The slow rhythmic movement leaves no illusion about what he is doing.

Nick can't stop watching. Heat is rising into his cheeks, every braincell screaming _to get the fuck back to sleep or leave the room RIGHT NOW._ But he seems unable to lower his eyelids even for fraction of a millimeter. And even if he closed his eyes – the slapping of skin on skin, the echo of a moan from Blixa's mouth – it would make it impossible to ignore what is going on. He has to look on, even if it kills him.

The way Blixa's body tenses into a pale arch, all sinews and bones and lean muscle, the way his bottom lip is caught between his teeth as he forces himself to suppress his moans, the way his hand under the sheets is moving faster and faster...

_Jesus, it's getting worse..._

His eyes still closed, Blixa lifts his left hand towards his face, slides a finger into his mouth, then another one – slowly moving them back and forth between those whorishly red lips until both fingers are slick with saliva.

Now it's Nick who groans and bites his lip, praying to a God he knows only from poetry these days to _please please please, don't make Blixa open his eyes, don't make him look around, don't..._

He notices his own erection almost as an afterthought. Because now, _oh fuck, fuck fuck_, Blixa moves his left hand under the blanket, arches his body into an even more obscene position as he maneuvers his fingers underneath his ass – and then his mouth opens into a perfect O and Nick feels himself blushing feverishly as he realizes what's going on.

Blixa's right hand, the one around his cock, still hidden from Nick's view, moves faster and faster as he fucks himself on his fingers, once, twice, thrice – the seconds draw on in slow motion as Nick's heartbeat is pounding loudly enough, he wonders how on earth Blixa can't have noticed, how he can't...

_Ooohh...._

The sound that emanates from Blixa's lips is half moan, half animal cry as his hips buck up, his whole body spasms in electric ecstasy. Again and again – until all tension evaporates and he sinks back into the bed, heavy and lifeless like a puppet whose string have been cut.

And still, Nick is unable to stop staring at him.

Until Blixa opens his eyes, heavy-lidded and sated - and looks him straight in the face.

"Enjoyed the show, didn't you?"

[..]

If you could die of shame, Nick would have left his mortal coil on this bleak Sunday morning in February 1984.

Deprived of this easy way out, however, he just gapes at Blixa, who rolls to his side, lazily, like a cat, his eyes not leaving Nick's.

"I didn't... I... wasn't.." Nick gasps.

Blixa gets up – surprisingly fast, considering he was lounging all fucked-out and boneless just seconds ago – and crosses the room. He's stark naked, his cock soft now, but there are white drops of come still clinging to his stomach as he approaches Nick with the grace and inescapability of an incubus from hell.

Sitting up in bed, Nick raises his hands, a weak vade retro Satanas.

"Holy shit, Blixa, you can't, we can't..."

"Shut up!" 

Blixa's voice hits him like a whip and Nick closes his mouth at once. His hands fall to his side and he doesn't resist when Blixa pulls away the blanket to reveal the obvious bulge in Nick's crotch. 

Blixa's lips curve into a truly demonic smile. 

When he sinks down on his knees, slowly, with the grace of a ballet dancer, Nick knows he is lost.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he offers no resistance when Blixa opens his belt and pulls down the trousers he fell asleep in. The underwear follows, Nick is even lifting his hips in assistance.

There's this look in Blixa's eyes when he faces Nick's erection – so intense, full of... worship? 

Oh God, he can't allow himself to think about it, _he can't, he can't..._

He doesn't think. Not anymore. Because now Blixa's mouth is on his cock and he's good, _oh, Jesus, he's fucking perfect_. Sucking him off with these whorish lips stretching around his girth as he closes his eyes in utter devotion. Long fingers wrapping around Nick's shaft as Blixa sucks and licks with that clever tongue that's doing things to the underside of his cock and _oohh, fuck...._

Nick doesn't last long.

He closes his eyes in one last mad rush of ecstasy as his hips bolt forward, basically fucking Blixa's face as he comes. From somewhere far away, he feels Blixa's fingers digging deep into the skin of his thighs, as constellations explode in front of his closed eyes and he shoots spurt after spurt into Blixa's eager mouth – and Blixa swallows every last drop of it.

Afterwards, he's almost sure he has blacked out.

It takes a long while until the dizziness is fading and the dancing red and black circles make way for his normal field of vision.

Blixa is still there. Crouching on the floor, stark-naked, looking up to him with huge, kohl-rimmed eyes.

"And now?" 

The question hangs heavily but unspoken in the air.

The seconds pass and nobody moves.

Finally, Nick regains his ability to speak.

"I... I can't...," he commences.

"No." 

Life returns into Blixa's body. He stands up, now towering over Nick who still remains motionless at the edge of the bed.

"We won't talk about this," Blixa snaps in the stern _"Achtung! Jawoll mein Herr Kommandant"_ voice he usually reserves for annoying stage managers. "It's better if this never happened."

Moving through the room, Blixa gathers his underpants from the floor, puts them on before he steps into his leather trousers and starts fumbling with his assortment of buckles and belts.

"I can live with this," he continues, calmer now. "I want to go on with the tour, I want us to remain friends, ...normal friends." He grabs his shirt from a nearby chair, pulling it over his head as he talks.

"But, Nick... please..." His voice becomes notably softer as he turns around, now fully dressed.

"This is the third time now, you know?" he says. "The third time, you... you let me... do something like this." 

He sighs, as he reaches for his leather jacket and sunglasses.

Nick remains on the bed, still half-naked, still lost for words.

"Please make up your mind, I can't go on like this for much longer..."

The door clicks as Blixa leaves the hotel room, but his words linger for a long time.


End file.
